


Out of the frying pan

by weekendgothgirl



Series: Micromarvel [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Eggs, Love, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, World War II, making breakfast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 06:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10848351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekendgothgirl/pseuds/weekendgothgirl
Summary: Bucky provides Steve with a healthy breakfast thanks to some chores.Basically fluff with pre-war boys.





	Out of the frying pan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opposablethumbs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opposablethumbs/gifts).



> Written for challenge 4 of micromarvel, a tumblr prompt challenge that I LOVE! Come join us!

Swaggering his way into their small kitchen, Bucky places his prize onto the counter. Steve doesn’t even look up from his paper, frowning at the pictures of the war in europe that cover almost every page. Knowing Steve he’s probably thinking of ways to deal with it himself. Bucky’s lips tilt into a quick, fond smile as he watches Steve: he always wants to save everybody, to make a difference.

“Eggs for breakfast, pal?” Bucky asks aloud.

Steve scrunches up his nose, head still buried in the paper. “You know I don’t eat eggs,” he says.

Bucky lets a grin slip out. “Sure you do, when they’re the right kind of eggs.”

Steve’s head jerks up, his lips slightly parted. Bucky’s smile only widens as he gestures at the four small, brown speckled eggs he’s placed on the kitchen top.

"Brown hens eggs,” Bucky confirms. “Just like ma Rogers used to make for you.”

Steve pouts slightly. “They taste better, you know that.”

To anyone else, Bucky would remark that eggs are eggs, but this is Steve. First off, he’s a stubborn little punk, and second, if believing that brown eggs taste better than white ones gets him eating a decent helping of protein and fat, Bucky is all for it. And anyway, they might taste better to Steve. A lie is only a lie if you know it ain’t the truth.

Steve has one of the little treasures in his hands, turning it over. “Where’d you find them, Buck?” he asks, a little suspiciously.

Bucky shrugs and plucks the egg back out of Steve’s grip. “You say that like I’ve got sticky fingers,” he chides.

Steve stares at him.

Tutting, Bucky begins collecting the things he needs for breakfast. “Nothing to it,” he says as he lays out the plates. “I helped Mrs Rosen out with a few chores and she gave me these in return. It’s the only kind her chickens lay. She reckons they're only good for selling to the powdered egg factory as most people won’t touch them whole."

“Most people are stupid,” Steve grumbles, but his eyes are on Bucky’s hands, cracking the eggs in a bowl and whisking them up with a fork. At last, Steve sidles up behind him; thin arms sliding around his waist, and nose pressed between his shoulder blades.

"You can sweet talk any gal,” Steve says against his spine. “And I think Mrs. Rosen has hopes for you and her daughter."

Laughing, Bucky heats the frying pan. “It's a shame for her she's barkin' up the wrong tree then. Besides Stevie," he turns in the smaller man’s embrace and presses a kiss to Steve's blond hair, "I'm spoken for."

Humming happily, Bucky makes their breakfast as Steve holds him. For this short moment all he thinks about is his best guy, the sun shining, the smell of cooking and the city sounds. The war and everything else can wait.


End file.
